


Fever Dream

by goddessofcruelty



Series: Chrisaac One Shots [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Isaac, Come as Lube, Hand Jobs, Helpful Peter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter shakes his head. Idiot boy. “Try calling Scott's mom.”</p><p>“I called her before I called you. I called everyone before I called you.” There's a heavy tone of 'duh' to Isaac's voice. “You're the only one that answered.”</p><p>Peter sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He really does not want to deal with this. “I'm on my way.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badwolfbadwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/gifts).



> For Wolfie who was sick today. <3

“Chris smells wrong.”

Peter arches a brow at the unexpected voice coming from his cellphone, the call from Chris' number. “Isaac?”

“He smells wrong and he's hot and he won't get up.” There's a thin, reedy note of panic threading through the beta's voice.

Peter rolls his eyes. “You were human once. Don't you know how to deal with human sickness?”

“Chris is _never_ sick.”

Peter shakes his head. _Idiot boy._ “Try calling Scott's mom.”

“I called her before I called you. I called everyone before I called you.” There's a heavy tone of ' _duh_ ' to Isaac's voice. “You're the only one that answered.”

Peter sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He really does not want to deal with this. “I'm on my way.”

-

Isaac opens the door in pajama pants and a flannel shirt of Chris' – buttoned wrong – and his hair's in complete disarray, curls going every which way.

Peter pushes past, heading to where Chris lay sleeping. He wrinkles his nose as he enters the bedroom. “You weren't wrong about the scent.”

Peter leans forward and rests his cheek against Chris' forehead like he remembers his mother doing to his human sister – lost to the fire – and for a minute he smells ash and death instead of the sour fever-smell that Chris is giving off.

Then he turns Chris just slightly and listens to his breathing. He doesn't hear the death rattle of pneumonia. Its does attest to how bad off Chris is that the hunter doesn't awaken to Peter's presence.

Isaac hovers, follows Peter when he goes to the kitchen and grabs a pad of paper, starts making a list.

“When did his scent change?” he asks conversationally.

Isaac's now watching Chris sleep. “Two-thirty seven,” he says absently, “a.m.” He flinches as Chris coughs, a dry cough – for now.

The beta's answer – along with his panic and the fact he's wearing Chris' clothing – tells Peter everything he needs to know about their relationship. He buries the pang of...something...so fast that he almost doesn't feel it at all.

“Here you go,” he says, handing the list to Isaac.

“What's this?”

“Shopping list,” Peter says, his tone annoyed. “Juice and soup for Chris. This,” he says, tapping a line on the paper,” will bring the fever down. This one,” he taps another, “will help the cough. And this is a reminder to get yourself easy-to-prepare meals. I have a feeling you won't be sleeping much til he recovers.”

Isaac nods and rushes out the door.

Peter shakes his head and wonders why he's helping this stupid twenty-something child again, picks up Isaac's shoes and the keys to Chris' truck and waits, holding them out. It takes nearly a minute for Isaac to realize he's without and come back inside for his things. He slips his feet into the shoes – sockless – and snatches the keys from Peter's hand.

“Wait a minute,” Peter snaps, and Isaac freezes, blue eyes wide. The older man gestures at Isaac's shirt. “You're buttoned all wrong, you look like a hobo. And for god's sake run a comb through your hair,” he grumbles, irritated enough that he reaches a hand out and finger combs the unruly curls.

Isaac visibly relaxes at the grooming, and takes the opportunity to affix his shirt properly. The he reaches out and clasps Peter's hand for the briefest of moments, those big blue eyes looking into his for assurance.

“He's going to be okay? This stuff will fix him?”

Peter looks down at his hand until Isaac tugs his away, flushing faintly. He almost, for the briefest of seconds, misses that contact, the warmth of Isaac's hand.

“Yeah, kid,” Peter says gruffly. “He'll be fine. I'll wait with him until you're back.”

Isaac nods and rushes out.

Then rushes back in again. “I don't have any money.”

“Oh for – Here.” Peter digs out his card and hands it over.

-

Peter sits quietly on the couch, skims a couple of Chris' gun magazines, flips through a photo album, plays on his phone, and does exactly what he told Isaac he'd do. He tells himself that having Chris owing him a favor is never a bad thing.

-

“Ibeu – Ibe – Dammit.” Isaac's muttering to himself in the medicine aisle, looking for this long word that Peter wrote down when a hand reaches over his shoulder and plucks an orange bottle from the shelf.

“I believe this is what you're looking for, though I'm not sure why?”

Isaac turns quickly and breathes a sigh of relief at seeing Melissa. “Chris is sick,” he says softly.

“Ah, I see. What are his symptoms?” she asks kindly and he tells her, in a much more calm fashion than he had Peter, and she confirms his list.

“Chris is lucky to have you taking care of him,” she says with a smile, “I've just got off-shift, so you can call me with any questions throughout the day, honey.”

Isaac nods and, feeling relieved, he gets through the rest of his shopping, swipes Peter's card with no trouble, and then rushes back home.

Peter stands as soon as Isaac sets the bags on the counter, and heads to the door.

“Peter?”

The older man turns with an arched brow.

“Thanks.”

Peter nods stiffly after a moment, then vanishes out the door.

Isaac busies himself getting everything together, and then takes a tray into the bedroom and settles it on the bedside table.

“Chris?” He shakes the older man, wincing as Chris coughs a few times and then opens his eyes. “Hiya, handsome. I got some drugs for you.”

Chris manages to sit up, with Isaac's help, and takes the pills, has half the glass of juice and a few bites of soup as well.

“You're a good kid,” Chris says softly, and Isaac flushes.

When he's done cleaning up, Isaac puts another blanket on top of the shivering Chris, and then wraps around him underneath the pile, adding his own warmth.

It takes another day for Chris' fever to break, and Isaac spends every second taking care of him however he can. 

Once the fever's gone, Chris' scent returns to normal and Isaac finally feels like he can relax.

-

Chris wakes up clear-headed and alert for the first time in days, smiles down at his angelic boy, curled up beside him. He reaches out and idly drags a nail along an exposed sliver of skin between the shirt Isaac's wearing and the waistband of his pants.

Isaac shivers in his sleep, and Chris can't help but chuckle, and then continues putting his hands all over his wolf as the boy wakes up in tiny increments. The blue eyes don't fly open until Chris' hand slides firmly around the hard length still trapped behind pajama pants, and Isaac arches up into the calloused palm, before turning to look at Chris, flashing that smile that he loves so much.

“You are definitely feeling better,” Isaac grins, and then lifts his arms to twine around Chris' neck as the older man brings him off slowly.

Once Isaac's cried out in release and spilled over the hunter's' hand, Chris rolls him onto his side and uses the fluid as lube to slide his fingers into the tight hole behind, after tugging down Isaac's pajamas until they're just under the curve of his rear.

Gradually, Chris presses himself into Isaac, slides inside that hot tight passage, and has to stop and take a breath, because it has been long enough that Chris feels like he might come right then.

“You okay?” Isaac's blissed out voice hold a thread of concern, but Chris' affirmative murmur has the beta relaxing once again.

Chris takes his time, at least as much as he can, rocking his hips languidly, just letting the orgasm build up, letting the warmth spiral in his gut until he just can't hold back anymore. Only then does Chris start with the short powerful thrusts that bring him over the edge, whispering soft, loving words into Isaac's ear as Chris pulses inside him.  
Instead of pulling away, Chris wraps his arms tighter around the younger man, holds him as close as he can, and they fall asleep that way, joined together.

 

 

 

 


End file.
